Archives For Fun

Before we get down to business, you no doubt have noticed the new Magnificent™ banner above…compliments of my bestie, Le Clown. How much do you love it??? Can you stand it??? Because I can barely stand it, it’s such a work of art. He also created this one:

weebles

Both of these delightful images will be in the banner rotation for all to see and enjoy. Merci, mon ami!

Also, this is a special week at The Outlier Collective. Instead of the usual 2 bloggers, we’re showcasing 7 bloggers, each sharing a unique take on feminism. Please join us!

And now, on with the show.

You know about my experiences hearing dead people. I’ve even shared my psychic predictions from time to time. So I thought, hey, why not have a sit-down with some dead people and interview them, like Barbara Walters except interesting?

I turned off the lights and lit a candle for ambience. Except I didn’t realize the candle was some sort of cloying scented thing. It made my eyes water and I almost passed out from the fumes. I blew it out. Darkness is better for communing with spirit anyway.

Soon, I felt a presence. I called out, “Who’s there?”

I heard the sound of a coin dropping on the floor and rolling to a stop. From the street lamps outside, I had enough light to see that it was a penny, heads up. Hmm.

Penny

“Mr. Lincoln?? Is that you?”

“Yes it is. I’m so glad you figured that out. Do you know how many other people just say ‘Hey look, a penny!!!!’ and then grab it and run off and forget I’m here? It’s very annoying.”

We chatted for a while about this and that. But then I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to know.

MW: So, Mr. President, I hate to bring up bad memories, and I don’t want to seem tacky, but I have to ask: what did you think of the play before you were so rudely interrupted?
AL: You know, I was really enjoying it. But Booth shot me right during the funniest line—he did that on purpose, you know. At first he said he did it so the laughter of the crowd would drown out the gunshot. But he admitted to me later that he did it just for spite so that I’d miss the best part.
MW: What an ass. Did you ever see John Wilkes Booth act? Was he any good?
AL: Eh. He was okay. I might have been more generous with my opinion about his acting ability if he hadn’t been a president-murdering son of a bitch.
MW: That’s fair. I assume when he died he didn’t go upstairs, am I right?
AL: That’s correct, he’s down below. Last I heard, he was being moved to different quarters. The Night Stalker—he just arrived down there—got dibs on being his bunkmate. You have no idea how happy that makes me.
MW: But Mr. President, in your second inaugural address, you spoke so eloquently of a time when the war was over, and welcoming the Confederates back to the country with “malice toward none.” You don’t sound like the man who wrote of such forgiveness.
AL: I know. I lied. It made for good press. Don’t look at me like that, it’s not like I’m the only president who ever lied.
MW: You have a point there. Anyway, what have you been doing since your assassination?
AL: You mean in these past seven score and eight years? Well, I recently took up yoga. And I learned Thai cooking. In fact, just the other night I gave a dinner party—the food turned out really well but the guests were a bit rambunctious. Cleopatra drank all the wine as fast as Jesus could make it. And I have to remember never to leave Queen Victoria alone with Marco Polo…they disappeared for a few hours and when they came back, the Queen’s gown was all disheveled and wrinkled and Marco high-fived everyone.
MW: Wow. I had no idea they were such party animals.
AL: Remind me to tell you about the time I had drinks with Florence Nightingale. She might have been a bit of a prig when she was alive, but now, once you get a few apple martinis in her, she lets her hair down and starts slipping the tongue to the barmaids.
MW: Is that right?? I would have thought she’d be more of a teetotaling sort.
AL: Let’s just say the “Lady With the Lamp” becomes the “Lady Wearing the Lampshade” pretty quickly when alcohol is involved.
MW: You’re starting to fade, Mr. Lincoln. Is there anything else you want to say before you leave?
AL: There is, as a matter of fact. Why is everyone so fascinated by Kim Kardashian? Am I missing something? She has a great behind—I don’t think she’d even need a bustle to fill out her dress. But other than that, she seems as useless as George McClellan.
MW: A lot has changed since you were here, sir.
AL: Not really. Next time I’ll tell you about the time Edwin Stanton and I put on some of Mrs. Lincoln’s dresses and paraded in front of the Capitol Building. We acquired the calling cards of quite a few senators and congressmen.

Stay tuned for my next chat with the spirit world…who knows who will come through next??

Submitted for your approval is a new batch of Hot Dead Goodness. Today we have three Hot Dead Guys and three Hot Dead Chicks—a little something for everyone.

Huxley

Aldous Huxley

We begin with Aldous Huxley…über-intellect, philosopher, and author. Best known for his anti-Utopian novel Brave New World. Also well known for his prodigious and copious drug use. Less well known for his 1940 screenplay for Pride and Prejudice, starring Laurence Olivier and Greer Garson. Should be known best for his brooding good looks, penetrating gaze, and general hotness.

Sir Walter Raleigh

Sir Walter Raleigh

Next up we have Sir Walter Raleigh (or Ralegh, as it was originally spelled). Well known for his dalliance with Queen Elizabeth I (“Virgin Queen” my ass). Also known for his ill-fated expedition to settle Roanoke Colony in North Carolina (what kind of dipstick sends people to set up shop on the North Carolina coast during hurricane season, anyway???). Should be best known as Hot Elizabethan Studmuffin.

Our third Hot Dead Guy was chosen with Leo in mind, because I know of his fondness for hot prisoners and ex-cons.

John O'Reilly

John Boyle O’Reilly

John Boyle O’Reilly was a Fenian who was imprisoned in 1866 for his role in an Irish plot to rebel against British troops. This didn’t exactly endear him to the British, and for his troubles he got a prison sentence and subsequent transportation to Australia as a political criminal. O’Reilly escaped from prison in 1869 and made his way to the United States, where he continued to advocate for Irish independence. Now tell me you wouldn’t have enjoyed solitary confinement with this fine felon.

And now, the ladies…

Alice2

Alice Roosevelt

First, Alice Roosevelt…she was the oldest child of Teddy Roosevelt, and man, was she a piece of work. She had a throw pillow that was embroidered with “If you can’t say something nice, then sit next to me.” I mean, look at this haughty broad. You just know she’d rip you to shreds. Her forked tongue often got her in trouble and she was embroiled in multiple scandals throughout her life, but she didn’t care. Alice lived without restrictions. And she was hot.

Next, may I present Hedy Lamarr, Hollywood legend and science geek. During World War II, she devised a method of preventing radio-guided torpedoes from being jammed by the enemy: a device that would constantly change the radio frequency so that enemy equipment couldn’t get a fix on it.

Hedy Lamarr

Hedy Lamarr

She received a patent for her “frequency hopping” system. It was never used by the United States Navy, but many modern communications devices use a system very similar to it today. Hottie Hedy had beauty AND brains.

Jennie Jerome

Jennie Jerome

Last but by no means least, we have Jennie Jerome. Who??? Well, Brooklyn-born Jennie was from a well-to-do family, and being a fine specimen of female pulchritude, she had a variety of suitors. In 1874, she met Lord Randolph Churchill—the man who would soon become her husband. They soon had a son, Winston. You may have heard of him. (By the way, smart money says that Winston was conceived BEFORE the wedding of his parents…) Jennie was notorious for her sexual appetites as well as for her impossibly tiny waist (thanks to some seriously impressive corsetry). Her second and third husbands were both 20 years her junior, and she was once described as having “more of the panther than of the woman in her look.” Who knew Winston’s mom was such a live wire?  And so hot??

I love television.  I’m not ashamed to admit it.  From my earliest childhood, with  Sesame Street, Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, Captain KangarooThe Electric Company (the original, not that bullshit remake), Zoom (the original, not that bullshit remake), and a zillion cartoons, that big box has been a huge part of my life.

A lot of buzzkills argue that too much television is unhealthy.  My reply to them is, “Suck it.”  I learned to count to 20 in Spanish thanks to Sesame StreetSchoolhouse Rock taught me about the parts of speech, and I can still sing the preamble to the Constitution.  And raise your hand if, like me, you learned to twirl your arms from watching Bernadette on Zoom.  Now tell me that trick hasn’t held you in good stead all these years.

I have learned much from TV shows over the years.  I’ve also drawn very important conclusions from my recent TV watching habits.  I’d like to share a few of them with you.

  • Life insurance companies should automatically report to the police anyone who takes out extra policies on their spouses.   Per 48 Hours Mystery, Dateline, and everything else that runs on the ID Channel, this should be a no-brainer.  If you take out an expensive policy, you may as well be wearing a sandwich board that says, “I’m about to commit murder!!”  So just go ahead and report these folks to the police and save them some legwork.  (Note to Mr. Weebles:  That million-dollar policy I just took out on you is in NO WAY related to this.)
  • Similarly, people with Crazy Eyes should be summarily reported to the police. Check out the perps featured on the ID Channel.  They ALL have Crazy Eyes.  I don’t care what profilers and psychologists say—ocular creepiness is the most reliable indicator of criminal intent.
These are Crazy Eyes.

These are Crazy Eyes.

These are NOT Crazy Eyes.

These are not Crazy Eyes.

  • No matter what day or time it is, some version of Law & Order is always on.  ALWAYS.  I find this oddly comforting.
  • Any man who tried to call me “Baby girl” would get the asskicking of a lifetime.  Except for Derek Morgan on Criminal Minds.
  • There are a LOT of aliens, chupacabras, sasquatches, and other mysterious creatures around us.  Be careful out there.
  • Most ghost hunters are obnoxious dickwads.  They walk around allegedly haunted places trying to taunt the spirits by yelling, “Show yourself!!”  If I were a ghost, I’d scare these idiots so badly that they’d need diapers for the rest of their lives.  Just because you’re talking to dead people doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have good manners.

Surely, my friends, you have also gleaned crucial learnings from your TV viewing.  Please share.

First, I must say, that I am completely honored and humbled to be axed by Madame Weebles to be a guest blogger. I swear, it’s better than anything I’ve ever had to drink barium for.

On to why I’m really here–to point out the weird, the wacky and the uber-choady. Oh and the creepy.

Like this story.

Prepare to feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand the fuck up and run for cover, because this just creeps the shit outta me.

Bat-eating spiders are everywhere, study finds

From CBS News.

Now, first a bit of history. McCrabass (me) was bitten by a Black Widda Spider many years ago while I was living in LA. I got very sick and ended up hallucinating in the Cedars-Sinai ER for about 12 hours. Ever since that day, I pay attention to spiders. Now, I don’t kill them, I keep a healthy distance from them. Just like they  know better to NOT fuck with the McCrabass–or else. On my McCrabass blog, I’ve even written about spiders you can fucking throw a saddle on and go “Tally ho!” Then, ride off into the sunset.

Here is yet another post about the wonder that is the creepy as all hell spider.

Back to the arachnids that EAT flying mammals, and I bet they don’t do it just for sustenance..they probably do it for sport. Fucking asshole spiders. Sheesh.

“There’s only one place in the world to escape bat-catching spiders: Antarctica. These arachnids ensnare and pounce on bats everywhere else in the world, researchers say.”

Please don’t pack up the U-Haul just yet to move to Antartica–that’s an awful place too. There is other shit that’ll kill you there faster than a spider and that shit is called sub-zero temperatures.

“Approximately 90 percent of known bat-catching spiders live in the warmer areas of the globe, in the third of the Earth surrounding the equator. About 40 percent live in the neotropics — the whole of South America, and the tropical regions of North America — while nearly a third live in Asia and more than a sixth live in Australia and Papua New Guinea.

 Eighty-eight percent of the reported cases of bat catches were due to web-building spiders, with giant tropical orb-weaving spiders with a leg-span of 4 to 6 inches (10 to 15 centimeters) seen catching bats in huge, strong orb-webs up to 5 feet (1.5 meters) wide.

 In instances seen in Costa Rica and Panama, the spiders had built their webs near buildings inhabited by bat colonies. Bat-catching via spiderwebs was also witnessed particularly often in the parks and forests of the greater Hong Kong area. Future research may investigate whether the huge webs that sometimes block the entrances of tropical bat caves in east and southeast Asia and the neotropics may occasionally snag any members of the giant swarms of bats thatemerge from the caves at night.”

Ok. WHAT. THE. ENTIRE. FUCK????

(courtesy livescience.com)

(courtesy livescience.com)

Waaaaaaait for it ….

COME THE FUCK ON!!

COME THE FUCK ON!!

Poor Batman ...

Poor Batman …

You know, there really is nothing more to say on this subject except this: I smell the plot of the next Batman movie.

*shudders*

 

shut-up

Welcome, dear ones, to the latest installment of Sit Down & Shut Up, in which the Magnificent™ Le Clown and I help you with life’s pressing challenges.  Our inaugural column was a huge success and we look forward to assisting you once again.

I’ve got to switch things up around here.  My recent posts have been sentimental and/or introspective and frankly, I’m starting to annoy myself.  It’s time to break away from all that thoughtful shit and bust out a new batch of search terms.  For a refresher on the other mind-boggling search terms that bring people to my blog, please click here and here.

First, the newest members of my I Hate Alex Trebek club:
why is alex trebek such an insufferable prick
why does alex trebek think he’s hot shit
i fucking hate trebek
alex trebek isn’t a nice guy

I wish I didn’t like Jeopardy! as a game because I have such a hard time watching it with that smug bastard hosting.  I yell at the television at least once per episode, usually more:  “Fuck you, you little douche!”  “Shut up!  Stop talking!”  “Ass!”

What is WITH these people??
weebles boobs
weebles rack
weeble porn
weeble butt plug

Based on the disturbing popularity of these sorts of terms, I’m going to create a new literature genre: Weeblerotica.  There’s obviously an unmet need here.  A very twisted, baffling, unmet need.

Not quite the right URL, sorry:
heynicerack.com
loveyourtits.wordpress.com

If only I had thought of either of these for the name of my blog.  I could have been Madame Boobs.  Both of these domains are available, by the way.  I checked.

Some pressing questions that require answers:
can cats carry demons
Yes, but only if the demons are very small.   Cats can’t handle a big saddle.  Also, cats are pretty lazy.

what do i do i’m scared of weebles

Did they not read the title of this blog?  FEAR NO WEEBLES.

can i touch up my hair and raid it the same day

I suppose so, if you have a lot of bugs in your hair and you don’t mind that bug spray smell.  But you know, you may have more important concerns than your hair.  Just saying.

i wore pantyhose for halloween, now i can’t stop
I find this one particularly curious.  Is this person now addicted to pantyhose?  How does this happen?  What was their Halloween costume, anyway?

you see another brother in christ and you get nauseous
Whoa, is that any way to talk about a brother in Christ?  Let he who is without nausea-inducing qualities cast the first stone, dude.

Um, what?
prepare to fuck a new woman every day … but first read through our policies below

What the hell kind of organization is this?  I’m going to need to see these policies of theirs.  And is there a division for those who might wish to fuck a new man every day?

Variations on Fuck You:
fuck you american style
i fuck people like you in prison

Yes, well.  “American style” could mean so many things…  And although I’ve never been to prison, I watched Oz, so I know what’s up.  But if someone says, “I fuck people like you in prison,” does it mean that you’re a tasty piece or does it mean that you’re an obnoxious jerk who needs to become someone’s bitch?  It could go either way.

So many weevils, so many idiots:
how to make sure weebles aren’t in your food
what happens when you swallow a weeble
what to do if spaghetti has weebles in it

You mean like this? I usually just pick them out and lick off the sauce. It’s really no biggie.

If I had a dime for each search term where they obviously mean weevils and not Weebles, I’d be writing this post from my yacht on the Riviera.

My personal favorite:
geddy lee madame weebles in bed

Geddy, is that you????  Don’t be shy, baby.  Email me.

More search terms that would make great band names:
picturesque vagina
barricading the cheese
big pubes little dick
pantyhose ascendant
precocious tits
subway penis
dead marshmallow

Welcome to Le Clown‘s birthday celebration bonanza!  This is only one of a series of posts brought to you by The Ringmistress, me, and many other bloggers to be discovered later.

I’m not even going to try to match the level of spectacular that Le Clown reached in his birthday post for me.  I know when I’m beat.  So I decided to switch things up.

As most of you know, Le Clown is a rabid fan of Star Wars.  More specifically, he’s a rabid fan of all things Sith.  Knowing this, I thought it would be nice to compose a special birthday haiku for him in the Sith language*:

Sith

Nice, right?

Then it occurred to me that to commemorate the birthday of such a magnificent™ soul, I should do something more grand and extravagant—something more befitting Le Clown.  After much meditating, pondering, tinkering, and ice cream eating, I came up with this:

This is the very first video I’ve ever done.  It took me ages to figure out how to do it, but I did it just for Le Clown.  I assume that George Lucas has already viewed it and is now curled up in the fetal position weeping over what could have been.

To my partner in crime and my best guy after Mr. Weebles:  May your 43rd year bring you health, happiness, and prosperity.  May you have much peace, love, and joy.  And may you have a metric assload of poutine.

So, as I said at the beginning, this is part of a whole celebration series.  There are two additional things before you can move on to the next post. First, I need to give you a letter as part of a password that Sara devised.  Second, I need to point you in the direction of the next blogger.

It’s diffiCult to Come up with a Clever way to provide a Clue about the seCret letter without aCtually Coming out and telling you or saying it aCCidentally.  Maybe if I ConCentrate and foCus you’ll magiCally piCk up the psychiC vibes.

As for your next blog visit, I present the following hints for your consideration:

Your fellow Canuck, she’s off the hook
She’s 5’9″ and lookin’ fine
Funny as hell, we know her well
She’s the bees’ knees, if you please

Now go and forth and enjoy.  Happy birthday, my friend.

*English translation:
It’s Eric’s birthday
Cake, presents, celebration
All that festive crap

Because we care

Madame Weebles —  January 21, 2013

Ann Landers.  Dear Abby.  The Oracle at Delphi.  All known for their knowledge and wise counsel.  And now joining this pantheon of giants:  Le Clown and Madame Weebles.

Do you want help with life’s pressing issues?  Do you yearn for guidance?  Maybe you seek a solution to a problem that has plagued you for a long time.  Whatever your situation, you may now rejoice, as your prayers have finally been answered.  We are here to serve you.

Join us here for the premiere of our new advice column, Sit Down and Shut Up.  If you need direction, we’ll tell you where to go.

As many of you know, I have something of a hotline to the spirit world.  I know things.  And I sense many important and exciting events in store for the coming year, so I want to share my predictions with you.

Crystal ball

Jack Kerouac will return to earth in the body of a rabid dog and rip out the throat of the numbnuts who decided to crank out a tepid, unnecessary film adaptation of On the Road.  The casting director who signed Kristen Stewart for a role will be found with a copy of the novel rammed up his cold, dead colon.

Prince William and Kate Middleton will welcome a son who will bear an unfortunate and uncanny resemblance to his grandfather, Prince Charles—complete with giant ears and constipated countenance.  The front page of the Daily Mail will announce the birth with a photo of the baby and the headline, “A Royal Shame.”  The Times header will read, “Newborn Prince Healthy but Lost Genetic Lottery.”  And The Sun will simply declare, “BLOODY HELL!!”

In other celebrity baby news, the spawn of Kim Kardashian and Kanye West will have cloven hooves and will perform its own C-section.

The governments of the United States and Canada will jointly decide to banish Justin Bieber to an ice floe in the Arctic Circle.  He will never be heard from again.  The IQ of millions of tween girls will skyrocket shortly afterwards.

In sports, the New York Yankees will go 162-0, sweeping the playoffs and winning the World Series in 4 games. Alex Rodriguez will be out for the season, tormented by the ghost of Lou Gehrig yelling, “Suck it up, bitch!”  The NFL will be rocked to its core next winter when a meteor lands in the middle of Cowboys Stadium, destroying both the Dallas Cowboys and the visiting Philadelphia Eagles.  Americans will once again fail to give a rat’s ass about the upcoming Major League Soccer season.

Buoyed by the continued federal funding of PBS, the Children’s Television Workshop will introduce a new Sesame Street character, Bruce—Snuffalupagus’s boyfriend.

Sometime next month—or maybe later today—a woman in front of me will walk way too slowly, causing my blood pressure to rise until I finally go batshit crazy and push her in front of a bus.

President Obama will appoint Betty White as United States Ambassador to the World, which will usher in a new era of peace on earth.

There’s more, but my spirit guides just went for a cigarette break.  If you have any questions about the year ahead, please feel free to ask.  I will provide answers when my guides return.

For Mr. John Erickson, my fellow WWII and military aircraft fan:

Hawker Hurricane
Avro Lancaster
P-38 Lightning (I’m omitting the “Lockheed” here so I can get this one in)
Piper L-4 Grasshoppper
Yokosuka MXY7 Ohka

Boeing B-17
Ilyushin IL-2
Republic P-47 Thunderbolt
Tupolev Tu-2
Horten Ho 229
De Havilland Mosquito
Arado Ar 234
Yakovlev Yak-9

Junkers Ju 87
Oh damn, I can’t think of a plane that begins with O
Heinkel He 111
Northrop P-61 Black Widow

May you run like a Merlin engine, soar like a B-29, and kick ass like a P-51 Mustang!